Chase
by jadetarsier
Summary: It's never too late to be who you might have been. Redeemed Jacen Solo, Tahiri Veila, Ben Skywalker, Dankin.
1. Intro

**Title**: Chase

**Author**: Tarsier

**Timeframe**: ~41 ABY, post-_Sacrifice_ AU (about a year after Caedus/Jacen has been redeemed)

**Main Characters**: Ben Skywalker, Dankin, Jacen Solo (redeemed), Tahiri Veila

**Genre**: Drama/Action/Angst, novella

**Summary**: It's never too late to be who you might have been.

**Author Notes: 1) **This is a sequel to _Chasing Whisperkits. _Reading that story first is strongly recommended (it's not long!), but knowledge of that story is not integral to understanding this story. **2)** Each chapter begins with a quote, some I made up, some are borrowed. For the borrowed quotes I sometimes try to make the author sound more Star-Wars-y while still being identifiable. **3)** This story is inspired by some of the major events of LOTF. However, not all details of what has occurred earlier on this timeline are true to canon.

* * *

**_Dramatis personae:_**

Primary:

Ben Skywalker (Jedi Knight)

Dankin (smuggler pilot)

Jacen Solo (former Jedi Knight; former Sith Lord)

Tahiri Veila (former Jedi Knight; former Sith Apprentice)

Secondary:

Allana Djo (Jedi child)

Hunter (unknown)

Jagged Fel (Imperial Colonel)

Jaina Solo (Sword of the Jedi)

Tenel Ka Djo (Hapan Queen Mother)

Zekk (Jedi Knight)

Gone But Not Forgotten:

Anakin Solo (Jedi Knight)

Callista (smuggler; former Jedi Knight)

Luke Skywalker (Jedi Grand Master)

Mara Jade Skywalker (Jedi Master)

Odonnl (smuggler)

Whisperkits:

Satin (red-gold)

Snip (grey with white markings)

Whiskers (white with blue eyes)


	2. Chapter 1: Rain

**Chapter 1: Rain**

* * *

**_When my master and I were walking in the rain he would say, "Do not walk so fast, the rain is everywhere."_**

**_– Jedi Master __Shunryn _Suzuki**

* * *

The rain fell steadily, as it had for hours. The air was crisp and cold; combined with the rain it created an inescapable chill. Ben Skywalker shivered despite his many layers.

_The rain is good_, the young Jedi told himself. _It's an extra layer of cover. Another source of distraction._

He glanced at his chrono, for the tenth time in as many minutes. He futilely tried to suppress another shiver as he slowed his breathing. He forced himself to ignore the weather and focus completely on the task at hand. He had to calm himself. He focused on softening his breathing, softening his muscles, softening everything until he faded into the Force. If the other Jedi sensed he was up to something, the whole plan would be ruined. He may not get a second chance.

After a final excruciatingly slow breath he glanced at his chrono again. And smiled. It was almost time.

* * *

Three blocks from Ben, Dankin stared at the ground, watching the rain form little streams and puddles in the aged ferrocrete. He couldn't bring himself to look up, for fear of seeing the man who had saved his life so many years ago. The man he loved like a father. The man he'd betrayed.

For good measure, Dankin's hands were bound behind his back. But the cuffs were not his primary restraint. Jagged Fel, a muscle-bound military officer, had his hand resting on the back of Dankin's neck. A few inches over and it would have been a friendly gesture, a pat on the shoulder. But as it was, with his fingers pressed against the nerves of Dankin's neck, it was a none too friendly restraining hold. If Dankin tried to escape he was sure the larger man wouldn't have a bit of trouble throwing him to the ground.

"They're coming." The voice came from a few feet to Dankin's right and, still not looking up, he shifted his gaze to the knee-high leather boots of Jedi Knight Jaina Solo. She'd been pacing restlessly, splashing through puddles and kicking up water in all directions, since they'd arrived at the abandoned landing pad twenty minutes ago. She finally stopped for a moment, facing toward Jag, but the heel of her boot continued to tap the ground in agitation.

"Is she with them?" Jag asked. The hand on Dankin's neck shifted ever so slightly as he spoke, the only outward signal that the stoic solider behind him was as agitated as the Jedi Knight.

Though Dankin didn't see it, he surmised Jaina nodded in response because Jag tightened his grip and pulled Dankin closer to him.

Dankin lowered his head still farther. Until now he'd held onto the faint hope that they didn't really have Tahiri, that she was still free to roam the galaxy. That perhaps she would even come to rescue him.

Not that he actually expected Tahiri to come for him. But hopes and expectations did not always align.

* * *

As the smugglers led her along, Tahiri Veila knew she had to escape before they got to the Jedi. The smugglers had taken her lightsaber and slapped a set of vibrocuffs tightly around her wrists. They carried heavy blasters, but in a fight she much preferred her odds against a handful of partially trained smugglers who had been grumbling about the rain since they left their ship, to her odds against Jaina and however many other Jedi and soldiers she had with her.

Tahiri was barefoot and wearing short sleeves, but she didn't even notice the pouring rain. The biting cold and penetrating dampness barely registered to her body, hardened by years of torture and anguish. She used the Force as an additional sense that more than made up for any limitations the dark, leaden sky and falling water put on her vision.

As she ran through options in her head, searching for the right time and place to make her move, Tahiri noticed a subtle but familiar Force-signature nearby. She had a friend she hadn't counted on. A friend her captors would never see coming. She may yet be able to pull this off. Save herself and maybe even Dankin too.

* * *

It was time. Wiping rain out of his face and taking a final deep breath, Ben moved forward, his lightsaber gripped tightly in his right hand.

He stood before the cell door thinking—not for the first time—how excessive it was. Four-inch thick, blaster-proof titanium and rigged with a dozen different sensors to detect damage, sound, and motion. No one went through the doorway without the security team knowing. That meant Ben would have to move quickly—even with Ben's careful timing, they would have less than two minutes to get out once the threshold was broken.

It was now or never. Ben ignited his lightsaber and with a few quick slashes he had eliminated the hinges and locks on the door. He held his hand up and used the Force to pull the top of the door toward him. It fell forward heavily and landed at his feet with a loud thud. There was no other sound—the alarms were silent—but Ben had no doubt the security team was on its way.

He quickly strode across the door and into the dark room beyond. His boots left sloppy wet footprints on the shiny metal surface.

Scanning the familiar room for its lone resident, Ben smiled. It felt good to be in control of his life for once.

* * *

Jacen Solo inhaled sharply, abruptly ending his mediation. Something bad was about to happen—No, it had already happened. His breath came in short, shallow gasps. Opening his eyes, Jacen saw dim light spilling into the small room he now called home. He scowled. He'd made it perfectly clear to Ben that he did not want his company, yet the child refused to cooperate, refused to act like a being who possessed even a shred of rationality.

What part of _I killed your mother_ did the kid not understand?

With a groan, Jacen got to his feet. It was then that he noticed the door lying broken on the floor. His heart stopped. He looked to Ben, standing casually a few steps inside the doorway.

"What have you done?" Jacen demanded.

"Come on," Ben replied. "We have to go."

"I'm not going anywhere," Jacen snarled.

"You have to go!" There was genuine fear in Ben's voice. Apparently he'd expected Jacen to just play along with whatever insane scheme this was. "They'll kill you if they find you now. You know they've been just waiting for an excuse."

That part was true enough. In fact, Jacen had dedicated the last year and a half of his life to avoiding giving "them" such an excuse. It looked like that was just about to be all for naught. Which was, of course, the crux of Ben's plan, Jacen could see clearly. Ben was attempting to force Jacen to go with him or face certain death. So many people had been clamoring for his demise, that when an official execution had been thus far denied, half the galaxy was hoping Jacen would make an escape so it would be open season on former Sith Lords.

"Jaina'll get here first," Ben added, a note of desperation in his voice. This fact, it was clear enough to Jacen, was not true. Or at least Ben did not believe it to be true. But Ben, his intentions ever so easy to read, knew that though Jacen did not fear death, he did have a strong desire to not be struck down by his twin sister.

Jacen hesitated, knowing he had only seconds to make a decision that would almost certainly determine whether he died within the next few minutes. Panicking at Jacen's reluctance to play along with his plan, Ben grabbed one of the few pieces of wooden furniture in Jacen's room and threw it as hard as he could across the room. Jacen observed as it crashed into the far wall and splintered into several pieces. He was faintly aware of the fact that he'd spent many days building the piece with his bare hands, and here Ben had destroyed it in a matter of seconds.

Next, Ben went to the dishes stacked neatly beside the small cistern. He picked up the entire stack and tossed it high into the air. Shards of ceramic burst out from the point of impact with the floor in all directions. Jacen felt a surprising pang of loss at the broken plates. It was only recently that he'd been allowed ceramic plates instead of the flimsy paper kind and he'd become quite fond of the delicate designs that had been painstakingly painted around the rims.

"Anger," Ben explained with a devious grin. He seemed to have overcome his panic, although Jacen didn't much care for the new direction his emotions were taking. "She won't think twice about putting you down once she sees you've succumbed to your anger."

Jacen hardly needed the narration. As he'd noted before, Ben's intentions were painfully easy to read. But Jaina wasn't coming for him, not right at this moment, so Jacen may yet be able to control the situation.

"Stop it," Jacen said as Ben surveyed the room in search of something else to destroy. "Get out of here." Jacen grabbed the boy by his upper arm and hauled him toward the open doorway.

"Happy to," Ben replied. Jacen released Ben's arm with a shove out the door and spun around, trying to decide how he would clean up the mess before anyone saw it. However, Ben had other ideas and grabbed the back of Jacen's tunic, pulling him along as Ben fell backward through the doorway.

As soon as they crossed the threshold of the door, the hallway erupted with blaster fire.

Jacen twisted in the air, throwing himself between Ben and the blaster bolts, all the while cursing himself for letting Ben catch him off guard. Together they hit the ground and rolled.

A barrage of panicked thoughts peppered Jacen through the Force: _Wait! That's Ben!—I see Jacen!—He's turned! He's turned!—Don't hit the boy!_

Panic was Jacen's friend. When people panicked they got sloppy. This was going to be far easier than Jacen would have ever imagined. Letting go of Ben and turning his roll into a slide, Jacen adjusted his trajectory so he came to a stop at the feet of the security squad. With a flick of his wrist, he yanked the blasters away from each of the security men, six altogether he noted absently, and tossed them casually out of reach. Then Jacen leapt to his feet and plowed through the group, which was now so utterly disconcerted they hardly provided more of a barrier to his escape than a small herd of nerfs would have.

One solider, apparently with quicker wits than the others, pulled a vibroblade from his belt and attempted to sink it into Jacen's side. But Jacen's hand darted out to intercept and bat the blade away without him even breaking stride.

And that was that. Jacen Solo, former Sith Lord and convicted war criminal, was roaming the open streets of Coruscant, his young liberator close on his heels.


	3. Chapter 2: Small World

**Chapter 2: Small World**

* * *

**_There is not enough darkness in all the world to put out the light of even one small candle. _**

**_– Robert Alden_**

* * *

_Several weeks earlier..._

The prisoner stared back at Jaina Solo with clear green eyes. He was small of stature, not only fine-boned but looking like he'd missed more than a few meals in recent months. She's been sure she could break him in a few hours. But hours had turned in to days and it seemed the more time passed, the more uncertain she became.

"Tell me your story again," Jaina ordered.

"I've told you ten times already," the prisoner replied. He was clearly frustrated, but not overtly hostile.

"Well, then you're going to tell me eleven times," Jaina snapped, as frustrated as he was. She rose from her chair so she could stare him down. "Start talking."

With a resigned sigh he began. He told the same outlandish tale as always. And as always she sensed no hint of deception from him.

According to the prisoner, who claimed he went only by the name "Lucky," he and Callista (yes, _that_ Callista) had spent several years rebuilding a starfighter that supposedly had once belonged to Anakin Skywalker. They had intended to present the ship as a gift to Luke Skywalker once it was complete. Callista had died, killed by Darth Caedus, before the ship was complete. Lucky had finished rebuilding the ship without Callista, but then Master Skywalker passed away before he could give the ship to him. So Lucky had decided to leave the ship near the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Finding himself without a way home, Lucky had attempted to take a ship from the Jedi docking bay, which is when he was caught.

Perhaps the most unbelievable part of story was Lucky's claim that the ship he was attempting to take actually belonged to him. He didn't just claim that he was entitled to the ship, as a sort of one-to-one exchange for the starfighter he left. No, Lucky alleged that he had owned the ship for many years and lent it to Master Skywalker right before his final showdown with Darth Caedus. In fact, according to Lucky, it was the very ship Master Skywalker had boarded Caedus' ship with. This particular claim was especially frustrating to Jaina because, although she was sure it was pure bantha poodoo, she couldn't prove him wrong. No one had any idea where the ship came from, the Jedi she talked to all said it just appeared one day. Nor was there any record of what ship Master Skywalker was flying when he confronted Caedus. How Lucky knew could possibly know that his absurd claim was so difficult to disprove, was another fact that irritated Jaina no end.

The fact was, with Callista and Master Skywalker both deceased, there was no way to disprove any part of the story. Her one would-be witness, her cousin Ben Skywalker, who was with his father when he confronted Darth Caedus, claimed to have virtually no recollection of the entire incident. Though this memory lapse concerned Jaina as Ben's cousin and fellow Jedi, as the commander in charge of the prisoner it made her grind her teeth with infuriation and it took every ounce of self-control to keep herself from grilling Ben until he cracked.

So at the end of the day, there was only one other person who might be able to tell Jaina what ship Luke had at the time in question. That man was Darth Caedus himself, or rather Jacen Solo, as he was calling himself now. But Jaina was not about to break her two year vow of silence, having not spoken to her twin brother since before he declared himself a Dark Lord of the Sith, for something as trivial as the stupid ship. She could not even begin to fathom how this innocuous looking prisoner before her had managed to back her into such a corner.

But somehow or another he had backed her into a corner, and with no way to disprove his story and no hint of deception in either his earnest green eyes or his Force sense, she was on the brink of having to release him despite her deep reservations.

"Jaina." A crisp military voice cut through her thoughts and interrupted the prisoner midway through his latest rendition of the Tale of Ancient Jedi Starfighters and Borrowed Starships.

Jaina looked up to see Jagged Fel standing in the doorway to the interrogation chamber, gesturing for her to join him outside. "What is it?" she asked as she secured the soundproof door between the interrogation chambers and the adjacent viewing room.

"We learned something," Zekk, Jaina's Jedi partner, replied as he peered through the one-way glass at the prisoner. "His name's not 'Lucky.' "

"Not exactly the shock of the century," Jaina replied drily. "Did you happen to learn what his name really is?"

"As the matter of fact, we did." Zekk grinned, clearly feeling quite proud of himself. "Not just his name, but now we've got a pretty good idea of why he didn't want to tell it to us." Zekk gestured to Jag, who presented Jaina with a datapad.

Jaina took the datapad and looked at the screen. It showed an image of a man that appeared to be a slightly younger version of the prisoner. Below his image was a credit amount and the letters "DOA."

"He's got a bounty on his head," Jaina remarked. "That explains why he's been so squirrelly."

"Not just one," Jag added. "Three." He punched a button on the datapad and a slightly different image appeared, along with a slightly higher credit amount. And, most interesting to Jaina, a name.

" 'Dankin,' " Jaina read aloud. It didn't sound familiar to her, not that she'd really expected it to. "So what'd he do?"

"Well, the bounty listings don't say. But I'm pretty sure he's a thief."

"We did find him trying to steal a ship," Jaina said.

"That's the thing," Zekk replied. "Based on this I'd say his business isn't something as pedestrian as stolen property. The bounties are offered by NRI, Mirax Terrik, and Talon Karrde. The three biggest intelligence organizations. I'm betting he doesn't care a thing about ships. He steals secrets."

"Or at least he did," Jag added. "All these bounties are nearly fifteen years old. The first two haven't been updated in ten years, who knows if they'd even pay. But the last one—that's the one offered by Talon Karrde—was updated less than six months ago." He clicked another button on the datapad and a third bounty appeared. This one had multiple pictures and a full description, including height, weight, and hair and eye color. It also had a credit amount three times that of the other bounties and the words "ALIVE ONLY" in bold letters. "NRI and Mirax Terrik have lost interest. But Talon Karrde is still eager to find him. Alive."

"Is that important—that he wants him alive?" Jaina asked.

"It could be," Zekk replied. "Alive only bounties are rare, and hunters don't like to take them. DOA is much easier."

"The point is," Jag continued, "It looks like Karrde is positively desperate to find him."

"Which leaves only one question," Zekk finished.

"Why does Karrde want him so bad?" Jaina suggested.

"No," Zekk replied. "The only important question is: What can Talon Karrde do for us?"

* * *

Jacen Solo's world had become very small. He lived in a single room, roughly eight meters by eight meters. He had a cistern and a refresher stall in one corner and a thin mattress in another. He had not left the room in over a year and only two beings other than Jacen had set foot in the room in that time. One of these beings was Jacen's pet, a small furry whisperkit.

Her name was Snip. Her fur was smoke grey except for a perfect triangle of white over her nose and three white paws. She was the only reason Jacen had to get up each morning. With the exception of his mattress and a small food cooler, all the furniture in the room had been designed and constructed for Snip's benefit. He felt bad about keeping her confined in such a small space when she had done nothing to deserve it, yet he couldn't imagine giving her up, so he did his best to make her comfortable and make the room seem bigger to her. There were a series of shelves and ramps built along three walls and climbing trees and makeshift tunnels dotted the floor-space throughout the room.

Jacen had built it all with his bare hands. The raw materials for Snip's playground, and even Snip herself, had been brought to Jacen by the other being who had set foot in Jacen's room—Ben Skywalker, his fifteen-year-old cousin.

Ben was the only member of Jacen's family who was speaking to him. In fact, as far as Jacen knew, Ben was the only member of his family, and perhaps the only person in the galaxy, who didn't want Jacen dead. Which was ironic because Ben, of all the beings in the galaxy, had the most reason to want Jacen dead. Not that the rest of the galaxy didn't have perfectly good reasons to call for Jacen's execution, but Ben's reasons were, or at least should have been, especially potent. The pain Jacen had caused Ben was especially keen. He had tortured Ben. He had killed Ben's mother. He had betrayed Ben's trust on so many levels he couldn't count them all. None of this should have been forgivable, yet Ben was Jacen's lone supporter, the only one advocating for Jacen's life and freedom. The only one who saw Jacen as a living, breathing human being and not a soulless monster.

Clearly, the kid was unstable. Jacen told him not to come, warned him to stay away. But it seemed the more Jacen tried to discourage him, the more adamant Ben became about visiting. Although Jacen was sure Ben's father hadn't like it, oddly he hadn't stopped Ben from seeing Jacen. Perhaps Master Skywalker had known that Ben would only have resented his father if he tried to stop him and would have done his best to go behind his father's back if for no other reason than teenage rebellion.

And as much as Jacen knew Ben shouldn't come here, and as much as he wished Ben would just stay away for his own good, Jacen had to admit it was nice to have someone to talk to. Well, someone who talked back, unlike Snip.

So it was not surprising that Jacen missed Ben when he did not come by.

"I guess he's not coming," Jacen said, making sure it came off as a statement and not a complaint. Snip, of course, did not know the difference. She gave a small mew and rubbed against Jacen's leg. "Which means," Jacen continued, scooping up the fluffy animal, "that we won't be getting the carpeting we need to finish your new climbing post today."

Jacen wasn't allowed much in the way of supplies—soft wood, carpet fragments, a few short lengths of sisal. He was not allowed any tools or glue, so he had to be creative about how to build the whisperkit's playground. When Jacen was young, his sister Jaina used to build elaborate cages for his pets. Now he was on his own. Currently his sister was a lot more likely to kill Jacen than help him with his hobbies

Jacen was confined to his small living quarters because he was under house arrest. The house arrest order was supposed to be temporary, lasting only until he was formally sentenced. His sentence was to be given by the head of the Jedi Order—Grand Master Luke Skywalker. However, Master Skywalker refused to render a judgment on Jacen until he had forgiven Jacen for killing his wife and Ben's mother, Mara Jade Skywalker. Master Skywalker had died two weeks ago, never having determined a sentence. This left Jacen in a sort of limbo—it had taken a lot of time, negotiation, and general angst to finally get all parties involved and the general public to consent to allow Master Skywalker to pass judgment. With Master Skywalker's death occurring before giving a verdict, the whole process of determining a judge to give a sentence to Jacen had to be started over. It was a process nobody wanted to be part of. Thus, Jacen remained under house arrest until the powers that be came up with a new plan.


	4. Chapter 3: Escape

**Chapter 3: Escape**

* * *

_**Do not go gentle into that good night. **_

_**- Dylan Thomas**_

* * *

_Coruscant, the prisoner exchange…_

Dankin felt an odd sensation at the base of his skull. At first he thought it was just the rain pounding on the back of his neck, or maybe Jag had pinched a nerve, but after a moment he realized the sensation was actually radiating from within his body, not a force striking the outside of his skin. No, that wasn't quite right either. The sensation was not in his body at all, but rather in his mind. Someone was touching his mind, tapping at his consciousness. He took a sharp breath in—someone was trying to get his attention. And there was only one person who would possibly try to contact him in such a way.

Tahiri had come for him, after all.

He had no idea where she would come from, or what she would want him to do. So he put his senses on high alert and waited for a signal, all the while trying his best to look casual. Fortunately Jaina seemed agitated enough that she wasn't paying Dankin a lot of attention and Jag, standing as he was nearly directly behind Dankin, couldn't see Dankin's face.

When the moment came, Dankin didn't have time to think or process anything. It was pure reaction. The first thing he saw was Jaina, out of the corner of his eye, whipping around to face him. Then there was a weight pulling on his leg and a split-second later something was pressing against his palm. Instinctively, he closed his hand, still bound behind his back, around the object. He didn't even remember pushing the button, but suddenly an ice blue blade of light shot out of his grip. Jag leaped back, a hair's breadth from being bisected by the blade. Then, still holding the blade behind him, he leaned forward and swung his entire body in a frantic circle. Jaina, who was in the midst of a charge toward Dankin, ducked and rolled away to avoid the deadly blade. As Dankin came full circle, the metal handle flew out of his grip and through the air away from him.

With Jag and Jaina startled and a few precious feet away from him, Dankin knew he had the only opening he was ever going to get. Without stopping the momentum from his spin, Dankin ran. He ran wildly, aimlessly. But it wasn't long until he hit a narrow alleyway between tall buildings, and they hadn't caught him yet. Maybe, just maybe, he could lose his captors in the maze of the city.

* * *

Tahiri could not see Dankin and the others, they were still too far away and the rain obscured everything beyond her arm's reach. But she'd tracked the movements of her unexpected ally and she _felt_ the commotion as Dankin made his escape.

Her captors, meanwhile, fumbled around in confusion. The man in the lead had noticed something brushing against his leg, and immediately saw that the lightsaber clipped to his belt—Tahiri's lightsaber—was missing. But he hadn't seen the flash of white fur and he had no idea what had happened. He yelled at his compatriots, accusing them of having lifted the weapon. This gave Tahiri just enough space to step backwards over her cuffs, bringing her hands in front of her. Then, sensing Dankin no longer needed her lightsaber, she called it back to her. The smugglers, still arguing, caught sight of the flesh-eating line of light twisting toward them just in time to dive out of its path. Even before they hit the ground, blasters were drawn and wild shots were directed at Tahiri. But the first two shots went wide, and by the time the third blaster bolt was coming at her, Tahiri had the lightsaber in her hand and easily deflected the next three shots.

Then Tahiri took off, sprinting in the general direction Dankin had headed.

* * *

Dankin ran, barely able to see a meter in front of him because of the rain and having absolutely no idea where he was going.

After a minute or so of blind running, something caught Dankin's eye—a blur of white moving along his right side.

_Whiskers_, Dankin thought, his brain only just now catching up and realizing the weight on his leg moments before must have been Tahiri's pet whisperkit climbing his body in order to deliver the lightsaber to his hand.

The blur of white suddenly cut across Dankin's path, racing down a passageway to his left. Dankin followed.

* * *

As her legs churned mechanically beneath her, Tahiri reached out through the Force. There was much excitement and confusion coming from behind her, but Tahiri ignored that, searching for something else.

_There_, she found it—a soft, fluffy presence. Yes, whisperkits—or at least her whisperkit—felt fluffy, even in the Force. Tahiri pulled at Whiskers, encouraging her to come towards her. Dankin, ever so easy to read in the Force as he ran alongside the whisperkit, his mind always open and radiating a sort eager friendliness that seemed out of place everywhere he went, veered off his path to follow Whiskers.

_Good_, she thought, _He's figuring things out better than I could have hoped. I just hope Jaina does not find him as easy to track through the Force as I do._

Tahiri recognized this part of the city and was amazed at her good luck in being brought here. Or perhaps it was a certain cockiness on the part of her would-be captors. Of course Jaina would want to make the exchange near the Jedi Temple; it was a convenient location for her. Apparently she wasn't worried about the fact that Tahiri knew the area well and would have a much easier time eluding capture here that a place with unfamiliar terrain.

Being near the Jedi Temple meant they were also near the docking bays of the Jedi. This meant that if Tahiri had any luck left at all, they were near a ship that was both fast and ripe for the taking.

Jedi, being Jedi, tended to load their personal transports with security features that were extremely difficult for the vast majority of the population to break, but were extremely easy for themselves to disarm. This usually meant that the security systems were extremely easy for _any_ Jedi to disarm. And if the particular ship she had in mind had a more traditional security package, Dankin just might be able to prove himself useful.

Speaking of which, she noticed that Dankin had lost considerable speed. The adrenaline was wearing off and exhaustion was starting to set in. She gritted her teeth. She could not afford to let him slow her down. If he didn't catch up soon, she may have to leave without him.

Finally, Tahiri turned the corner to the Jedi docking bay and gave Whiskers a final Force-nudge. It took Tahiri only a few seconds to scan the ships and find the one she wanted. It was a bit away from the other ships, but appeared to be in good repair. _Hurry up, Dankin_, she thought as she strode to her target. He was close now and perhaps gaining a second wind.

Staring at the hull of her chosen ship, Tahiri tried to determine what sort of security the ship had in place as she approached it. She stopped abruptly. It appeared she wouldn't need to worry about security at all—the boarding ramp of the ship was already lowered. For several seconds Tahiri's mind raced. Who would have lowered the ramp? Was this a trap? How could Jaina have known she would be here? Or had the ramp been lowered by someone else entirely?

Tahiri was suddenly aware that she could feel her pulse pounding in her head. If she could just relax, she would be able to use the Force to answer her questions. But there was a panic, a sense of dread filling her. She couldn't get herself to move, or to reach out to the Force. It wasn't until Whiskers ran up to her and climbed to her shoulder that she realized the dread had nothing to do with Jaina, or her plans for escape.

No, her sudden dread had been ignited by a familiarity. By being near someone she knew. Someone she hated with all her heart and soul. Someone who was standing between her and her best hope for escape.


	5. Chapter 4: Convergence

**Chapter 4: Convergence**

* * *

**_Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts._**

**_– Winston Churchill_**

* * *

Jacen took three steps down the corridor of _Jade Shadow_ before spinning on his heel and charging back the other direction. "Keep going!" he shouted to Ben as he sensed the teenager hesitating.

He paused at the top of the boarding ramp. Jacen had hit the button to raise the ramp as he ran past, but apparently someone had hit it again because the ramp was lowering. He drew his lightsaber as he confronted the intruder.

His thumb was on the ignite button, but he never pressed it. Instead he froze as soon as he saw her.

* * *

Tahiri was relieved to see Dankin catch up to her as she hesitated just outside the ship. She used the Force to punch the ramp button within the ship and the ramp reversed its direction and began to lower before her. Turning as he approached her, Tahiri could see Dankin was wild-eyed and panting like a rabid rancor. Not about to explain the situation to him, and knowing that a few more seconds of hesitation could cost them their lives, Tahiri placed her hands on Dankin's back and gave him a hard shove forward before he could come to a halt beside her. "Just get the ship in the air and get us out of here!" she snarled at him, far more harshly than she had intended.

Though he was clearly exhausted, Dankin complied. He bounded up the ramp and ducked beside the figure standing just inside the ship. The figure made no move to stop him, his focus entirely on Tahiri.

Bracing herself, Tahiri walked steadily up the ramp. This ship was her only chance of escape and she was not about to let the monster from her past stop her now. Neither of them said a word as she paused before him; they just stared at each with lightsabers drawn but not ignited. Memories and emotions flooded Tahiri's mind, momentarily drowning out all thoughts of those who were chasing her. It was a reckoning, or at least it seemed like it should have been. But nothing happened. He said nothing, he just looked back at Tahiri, his face giving away no emotion.

There were a million things Tahiri had been dying to say to—or to scream at—Jacen Solo, also known as Darth Caedus, the man, if she could even call him that, who had made her who she was today. But somehow, in this moment her throat was tight and no words escaped her lips.

Jacen tilted his head ever so slightly and the ramp began to rise behind Tahiri.

* * *

Dankin raced toward the cockpit, ignoring everything but the goal of reaching the pilot's seat where he might finally be able to relax enough to gather his wits and sort through what had happened in the last ten minutes. He'd vaguely noticed that someone had been standing at the entrance to the ship, but remarkably that person had not attempted to stop him. It was odd, certainly, but it was the sort of oddity that would be well-suited to sorting through once he had the comfort of a mottled view of hyperspace around him.

Dankin was indescribably relieved when he finally spotted the doorway leading to the cockpit. The thought of collapsing into the pilot's seat and giving his burning lungs and utterly exhausted legs a break was so irresistible Dankin practically threw himself the last few meters. And so it was that his legs went completely out from under him and he landed in a heap on the floor after discovering that there was already someone seated in the pilot's seat.

* * *

Ben had just begun the preflight checks when he heard a commotion behind him that culminated in an older man falling to the floor beside him. Ben jumped at the sight, wondering how in blazes someone had gotten past Jacen. Or if he hadn't gotten past Jacen, what in the galaxy he was doing already on the ship. "Who are you?" Ben demanded, glancing briefly over his shoulder to see if Jacen was nearby.

The man just stared dumbly up at him. He was breathing heavily and was completely drenched. Either he just stepped fully-clothed out of the refresher shower, or, like Ben, the man had come from outside in the pouring rain. Something beeped on the console in front of him and Ben turned toward it, keeping the man in his peripheral vision. Where was Jacen and how was he going to get rid of this bizarre stranger?

His questions were pushed aside as the console continued to beep, but louder and faster, and the lights that normally turned green after a successful preflight check turned red. Ben experimentally flipped various switches, hoping he had just performed the necessary checks in the wrong order and needed to reset the various systems.

"Did you power her down correctly last time you flew her?"

Ben jumped again, suddenly aware that he'd taken his focus off the stranger, who was now standing, peering over Ben's left shoulder. But after a moment to recover from being startled, Ben responded, being sure to his tone reflected his indignation at the man's comment. "Of course I powered her down right. What do you think—"

"Has she been sitting long?" the man interrupted, ignoring Ben's tone.

"A couple months," Ben replied, not quite as defensively.

"Good," the man said, sliding into the copilot's seat and tapping at the controls. "She may just have a little water collected in the fuel tank. I'm guessing you didn't refill her before you left her, did you?"

"No, it was almost full—"

"Then we'll assume that's it and override everything. I don't know about you, but I don't have time to play it safe and check every system one by one." The man stood up and felt around the ceiling behind the pilot's seat. "There," he said and pushed a button. One by one the lights changed from red to green. "Well don't just sit there, get the engines going," he instructed.

* * *

After several seconds of staring mutely at Jacen, Tahiri got a grip on herself. She shoved her emotions and desires down, and forced her rational brain to engage. She hated that he was the one who had taught her the technique, but she couldn't afford to be distracted by hatred.

Finally able to think clearly, Tahiri figured that if Jacen was here, it must mean that he too was on the run. And that probably explained why Jaina had not given her or Dankin more trouble—she would undoubtedly have been more concerned with stopping Jacen than the two of them. This also meant that she and Dankin were now exactly where Jaina wanted to be. They'd best keep moving.

Tahiri felt something touch against her neck and her body tensed. It seemed a terribly disappointing way to die, to be Force-choked by the supposedly redeemed Darth Caedus in the entryway of her would-be getaway ship. It wasn't until she felt the touch relax and then return to her neck that she realized the touch had nothing to do with Jacen, or indeed the Force at all. The touch came from Whiskers, who had climbed to her shoulder without Tahiri even realizing it and was now slowly swishing her tail across Tahiri's neck.

Feeling foolish, Tahiri exhaled slowly and turned away from Jacen. He was making her paranoid when she badly needed to focus. If he intended to harm her, she just hoped he be swift about it. She headed towards the cockpit, wondering why the ship hadn't started up yet.

* * *

Jacen hadn't seen Tahiri since she'd killed an innocent woman in front of him to prove a point to him. Since moments before he fell to his knees before Master Skywalker and begged for his help. He had no idea what to say to her. He knew he owed her an apology—a million apologies, and maybe even a thank you—but it was not shame or contrition or gratitude that rose in his chest when he saw her. Instead he was filled with resentment and bitterness at what she'd done. Determining that neither a half-hearted apology nor a caustic accusation would help anyone in this moment, Jacen remained silent. He studied her, trying to determine why she was here and where she had been since the last time he'd seen her.


End file.
